It had been a quiet day at my salon this Friday. I run a small salon in a midsized town in the western U.S. I do hair styling of course, manicures and pedicures and some massage. Some of my women clients like a relaxing massage, but since I’m gay, I assure you, it’s strictly professional.
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I opened my eyes. The night's sleep was leaving my body and I was returning to consciousness. With a contented sigh I pulled the covers up beneath my chin and turned on my side. A glance at the small clock on the nightstand told me it was 10 p.m. A good night's sleep without strange, incoherent dreams was a luxury I didn't get to enjoy very often. I hadn't felt so rested in weeks, maybe even months.
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Watching Kat's towel wrapped body, Jenna again wondered if she would have the courage to admit her real feelings. The passionate kiss in the shower the feeling of Kat's breasts pressed into hers had only increased her determination to admit her desire. Entering the kitchen, Jenna felt her heart nearly melt as Kat looked back at her and gave an encouraging smile. "Drinks first," Kat said with a big smile, her high voice sounding so sweet Jenna's knees nearly buckled. "Practice after, deal?"
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I didn't get home until after 6AM. I'd been working with a buddy of mine all night as a temp at his job at a warehouse to pick up some extra cash, but I'd expected to be home by 2AM at the latest. And I'd started that job after getting off my regular job, meaning I'd been up and working for almost 24 hours straight.
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When my wife quit working to have our first child, I secured a second job as a doorman/security guard at a high-rise apartment building about a half-hour from our home. The Bayview Towers was six stories high with a total of 60 apartments. The main floor consisted of two business apartments, management office and maintenance facilities. I would work there for about three years.
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My wife has instructed that I write about how I became her cuckolded husband. Janet and I met through her deceased husband Thomas who passed away six years ago from leukemia. Thomas was an architect and he and I met on a building project. I am a professional contractor.
My first wife Jennifer and I had one child after marrying right out of college. Not long after our first child, she filed for divorce when she found evidence I had strayed outside of our marriage.
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I am probably the most typical white guy in America. 31 years old, married for 4 years, with a two year old kid and obsessed with sex. I can't help it. I want to kiss, lick and suck pussy. I want to bury my face in big, firm but soft mounds of breasts. I want to breathe in the mixed aroma between her legs of pussy and ass before I slowly drag my tongue from asshole to clit. I want her to do the same to me- but now I'm dreaming and this is a true story so I'll stick to the facts.
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Carol had enjoyed playing doctor with me. Enjoyed it? She'd gone ape at the end. And so had I. And then she'd suggested playing nurse. I wasn't sure what she had in mind, but I was determined to find out.
I called her and made an appointment. "Will this be just the regular service?" she asked, "or do you need special treatment?"
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It was about 3 in the morning and Mark rolled out of bed with a keen thirst. He cursed himself for not having had the foresight to bring a glass of water to bed. They had been out to dinner, he and his wife, their son and daughter, plus three of his daughter's friends, Imogen, Hazel and Maddi. It had been a celebration for his daughter's 18th, and it had been expensive. But Mark didn't mind. Not just because he is a doting father, or because he is what you might call comfortably well-off, but because it gave him a chance to enjoy his daughter's sexy friends.
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I was in Montreal on business, though this day certainly wouldn't be as arduous as others. A client of mine had invited me and 100 of his closest friends to celebrate the purchase of his fourth home. Known for his extravagant tastes (usually quite urban), this house was surprisingly located on Lake St. Louis in Beaconsfield—an upscale, but very private area.
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